Silent Hill: Dark Memories
by humble
Summary: Ok... This is the story of an author (not Harry Mason) who comes to Silent Hill in search of material for his new book. It seems like the perfect place to relax and gather info. Unfortunately, the dark forces of the town take a liking to him.
1. Chapter 1: Enter

All right, I guess I have to put in a disclaimer, so I'm just gonna say I don't own Silent Hill instead of putting in one of those bad jokes people love for disclaimers  
  
I will sometimes respond personally to reviews, particularly if you have a question or comment. As of now, I'm using all original characters. I've tried my best to make sure it will still coincide with SH 3. For the most part, it is not connected to SH 1 or 2 in anyway except for what is going on inside the town.   
  
Silent Hill: Dark Memories  
  
  
Chapter 1  
"Is it just me, or is it getting colder all of a sudden?"  
"We're up in the mountains man"  
"But its getting colder as we're going DOWN the mountain into the valley"  
  
A red Jaguar rolled down a steep mountain road into the thick pine forests of the valley below. The passenger was Thomas Farnwald, a young (and slightly paranoid) journalism student, and the driver was me, Dennis Crocker. I'm a "professor" of journalism, but that's mostly just for a bit of extra cash. I'm really a novelist, with a thing for the paranormal.  
  
I felt sorry for Tom, the day after I sent him home with the project information, he started acting more anxious and agitated. He needed the extra credit though, and I needed an assistant. It was ten o'clock in the morning, and he was chugging on a huge thermos of chamomile tea in an attempt to relax.  
"Um... sir", he had asked me that morning. "What kind of extra credit will I be receiving?"  
"I'll drop your lowest test score"  
  
He was trapped after that, he had gotten an F on the Newspaper Exam. It was a shame really, his expertise was in the Information Gathering occupation, another reason I wanted to bring him along. I can't understand exactly what made him afraid of the location, he didn't seem very superstitious to me. I guess a true believer wouldn't have wanted to come even for a big sack of money. The place has a gruesome history.  
  
A very old looking sign dangled low over the road, apparently having been bent by some strong winds. It looked old, at least a few years without maintenance, and depicted a lake surrounded by smiling people. Underneath it read, "Silent Hill: The Happiest Town on Earth! You'll Never Want to Leave!"  
  
"See Tom, nothing to worry about", I joked. "Apparently these people are very confident in their town if they saw no need to fix the sign!"  
He chuckled a bit, but continued looking all around for wolves or whatever was on his mind. All right, I did have some pretty strange information on the town.  
  
I first heard of the place in the newspaper. "Scientist believe magnetism could cause insanity", was the headline. It was some nonsense about certain places in the world where radio waves interfered with the earth's natural polar alignments which may cause ordinary people to suddenly become schizophrenic. This was one of them. In an attempt to grab more attention though, the amateur writers of this article also decided to mention the fact that the town was very old and had a history of ghost stories. The article only presented a few cases but they were STRANGE. One was about a man named Joseph Barken, who suffered paranoid delusions supposedly brought on by the death of his daughter. He claimed an ancient executioner was stalking him. The shocking thing is that the doctor who was treating him suddenly had a mental breakdown of his own, for no apparent reason, and claimed that the same "thing" was stalking him. It seems that a lot of the local mental cases, of which there were a lot, also saw this executioner. The article goes on to state that its probable that certain types of people that live in this particular area would experience the same kind of hallucinations... blah blah blah.  
  
If one was to go out and read all the articles that anyone has ever written about the supernatural, then it would seem almost impossible to conclude that all these people are either nuts or liars. Well, very few people have gone out and checked up each one like I have. The most typical situation is that the writers were either exaggerating to the extreme, or the more rare, but still probable circumstance of them just plain lying. I wouldn't even have bothered coming out here, if I didn't look up some of the town's history. There have been lots of ghost sightings, connected with a brutal Reconstruction Era Prison Camp that was in the area. A few years ago, a huge fire broke out in the town, which was believed to be connected with some strange cult. The natives treated this land as a sacred place, till they were kicked out by settlers. All these juicy tidbits, combined with the fact that the place is also a resort, made me instantly pick up the phone and call in a few vacation days.  
  
"All right, where do we go once we get into town?", I asked Tom who was looking at the map.  
"Um, after clearing the tunnel, you just keep going straight down Bachman Road till we reach the water, then take a left onto Sanderston and the Motel will be immediately on the left."  
  
It was starting to get dark out, the car clock said 4:00, but I knew that was way off considering it was summer. As we went through the main tunnel into town, I suddenly felt extremely light-headed and almost lost control of the car. If it wasn't for my assistant grabbing the wheel, we might of had an accident. Luckily there were no civilians around. "Actually", I thought. "There are hardly any people out right now, that's kind of odd for a resort town.  
  
The town looked modern, but we didn't go through any residential areas. There was something weird about the trees. They weren't dead or anything, but wilting and I saw some dead leaves on the ground around them. I chuckled at the thought that maybe this polar radio waves theory was also killing off the local flora. The few people we passed by all had blank expressions on their faces. Even a woman carrying a baby looked like she was on her way to a funeral or something. At last we pulled into the hotel parking lot, and I actually breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
I looked south and saw the sun moving under the western tree line. It was making a reflection on the lake that almost made the thing seem like it was filled with blood. I pushed the thought out of my head and started thinking about those people. "What if those writers weren't bull sh**ing and this entire town is going insane?" I attempted to relieve my fear by laughing at the thought, but it didn't help.  
  
Across the lake was South Vale, a relatively new area of the town that was still under construction. It was tomorrow's destination. Both the Silent Hill Historical Society and the Brookhaven Asylum were there, and that's where my research was taking me. I turned around and saw Tom trying to unload the equipment from the trunk. He was having a hard time at it, I don't think he got much exercise, but at least he wasn't overweight. Just scrawny.  
  
Okay, I carry the same stuff those Paranormal Investigators have. I've yet to use it, but if there actually ever is a real ghost in my presence, I absolutely do not want to miss it. All I have is one of those big ghost reader things, a camera, and a radio. I have no idea what the reader thing is, all I know is that I strap it to my back, press a few buttons, and if the number on the thing reads higher than usual, there's supposed to be a ghost nearby. The radio is for recording when a ghost is nearby cause one can supposedly hear their voice on a tape, and the camera is for capturing their images if they're invisible. I repeat, I have yet to use them.  
  
The Motel was like any other. A large parking lot was surrounded by a large building with several doors. Greenery lined the walls. The street overlooked the water, and to the east were some stairs for going down to the docks. To the west was a park and a long bridge that went to a closed Amusement Park on the other side. I could pick out a few of my favorite rides, most noticeably, I saw a huge Roller Coaster looming over the lake.  
  
  
As we headed towards the Motel office, I accidentally bumped into an odd teenager. The guy looked pale, sick, and was twitching randomly. The pale skin seemed to go with his all black jeans, t-shirt, and cosmetics. I apologized, but he just kept on walking, away from the office I was headed for. I don't really have much expertise in the area, but I think he looked like a junkie in withdrawal. It was just another thing on my list of reasons to leave the town immediately.  
  
The office looked nice and clean, its occupant didn't. Farnwald tried to make himself comfortable on one of the couches, but the fat guy behind the counter screamed at him, saying that he just cleaned them. The clerk was vastly overweight and reeked of liquor. He was balding, didn't bother to shave, and wore only jeans and a t-shirt covered with food. I had half a mind to leave immediately, but the only other hotel in the area was the Lakeside Hotel, and they required reservations.  
  
  
"It's twenty bucks a night."  
"Do you have any meals?"  
He grunted and pointed to a soda and snack machine in a corner. I had a feeling this was going to be an unpleasant stay. We headed outside and towards our room. I suddenly felt the same dizziness I got when entering the town, only this time a strange triangle symbol suddenly flashed in my mind.  
  
  
"Are you all right?", Tom asked as we were unpacking.  
"I dunno, there's just something about this town..." Now I was the one being paranoid.  
"Ahh... don't think nothing of it. This is the valley, chemicals flow down here, that's probably what's damaging the trees. We should probably report it to the state authorities, the local cops might be getting bribed."  
"Yeah that could be."  
  
  
Our room was basic, there were two beds with green sheets in the front part and a bathroom in the back. Tom was taking a shower when I noticed a piece of paper on my nightstand. There was writing on it, in red ink, and it wasn't a Motel Card or something. It read:  
  
Dear Doctor Crocker,  
Welcome to Silent Hill!! Its a rare case that we receive someone with such high educational honors to our humble little town. I hope you enjoy your stay, perhaps we shall meet sometime, share tea and cakes. Don't worry about who I am, you'll know soon enough! Till then, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite!  
Sincerely,  
Mr. S  
  
The letter obviously scared me a little, but I am a pretty well known author. One of my colleagues probably told some of the town officials. My mind was a little hazy from the lack of sleep anyway, and I wanted nothing more than peaceful dreams. As I drifted, my eyes shifted to that slip of paper again and the triangle symbol suddenly jumped in my brain as the void took me.  
  
It was dark, cold and damp. Sleeping on city concrete is not pleasant. Especially knowing that a house and a warm bed await you if you simply give in. I'm not into giving in though. Especially to these people. Bribes of food and clothing paled in comparison to the excitement brought on by freedom!!  
  
Fleeing from slavery...  
  
A new life...  
  
I am innocent...  
  
Forget everything...  
  
I woke up with a distant memory of blood and triangles in my head. My head was pounding, I felt like I was in the midst of an all night hangover. I spent a few seconds sitting up in bed and then looked towards the window. It was still dark. I felt the urge to relieve myself, so I headed for the bathroom. I stopped to take a look in the mirror. My eyes were deeply bloodshot, and I swore that my brown hair was turning gray. It wouldn't surprise me, being forty-five and all, but it wasn't gray yesterday. On my way back I could've sworn I saw someone staring at me from outside.  
  
I decided to go out there, with my ghost reader thingy. Not that I really thought I saw anything, but I did have the reader, so what the hell. As I suspected, "psychic" energy was normal. It was late but I decided to take a quick peak at the lake. A light fog was settling over it. Again, I swear I saw something strange out there. It looked like a ship, but the second I noticed it, it was gone.  
  
"You've got to calm down", I told myself. "You're tired, get to sleep." It was difficult getting to sleep though. Some sixth sense told me that this town was not the best place in the world to be. 


	2. Chapter 2: History

Farnwald drove the next day, I wasn't feeling very good. We were going along the lake, down Nathan Avenue, which would curve us into the southern part of town. The sky was gray and the world looked dreary. A heavy drizzle made me feel very uncomfortable. I kept getting the feeling that the drizzle was going to erupt into a storm, but it never did.  
  
We didn't have to drive far, the Historical Society was the first building in Southvale. "Building" is an over statement, it was more like a shack. It faced the lake, I could see that big Roller Coaster on the other side if I squinted hard enough. It also housed a boating dock and a small warehouse. As I headed towards the door, I noticed that the shack was made of wood, and it looked like rotting wood. I guess the tourist bureau of this RESORT town was either underpaid, or just didn't give a damn.  
  
Farnwald was busy unloading the car, so I figured I'd head in. I knocked several times, to no answer, so I pushed in and the door fell off its hinges. I quickly grabbed it in a last ditch effort to avoid getting sued, but the sound of a person's voice startled me into dropping it again.  
  
"Don't worry about that thing, its mostly just for show", said someone. It came from a young girl, maybe in her early twenties, that was sitting behind a desk. She looked pale, and her long hair was dyed black. She was very scrawny, possibly a perfect mate for Tom. I could tell he was interested, cause he dropped all the equipment the second he looked at her.  
  
"What are you doing, that shit's expensive damnit!", I yelled at him. I mean, I was young once also, but like I said, that shit's expensive.  
"Sorry sir...", he said as he took little glances at her while cleaning his mess. She didn't look very interested.  
"So...", I began. "Do you run this place?"  
"For the time being, yes", she sighed. "Not too many people wanna volunteer anymore to help this town out. It's too bad because the place has a rich history."  
"I heard. As a matter of fact, I'm an author and I came here to do a story on it. My name's Dennis Crocker."  
  
"OH!!", she yelped and she grabbed my hand. "I've read some of your work, I especially love that book about vampire's invading Florida" Oh no... not one of these people... I swear, these goths get kicks out of work like mine, and I don't mean they get scared, as was my intention. Instead, they simply enjoy the subject matter.  
  
"Right this way sir!", she said as she lead me towards the back of the room. We passed a display case, which I first expected to contain something like arrowheads. Well, there were arrow heads, but a bunch of other weird stuff as well, torture devices, something that looked like a chalice, and some weird looking dolls.  
  
"What's all this?", I asked?  
"Well", she answered. "We don't know about a lot of them. We think we know where those tools come from. There was a Prison Camp..."  
"Yes, I read up on all of that"  
"Ok, well, we think those used those to torture prisoners."  
"Whaaa...?"  
She had a sad expression on her faces as she looked at those things.  
  
"I can hardly believe it either, and in America especially. Supposedly, the evil men that ran this camp used to wash these blood-stained instruments off in the lake. There're supposed to be ghosts around there now."  
  
Well, these things were rather nasty looking. I mean, they looked like they should be in a display case over in some Spanish Castle, not in a small American town. Guess the country was pretty wild back then. You'd think that Lincoln...  
"Oh, and a few of those things recently went missing."  
"Wha.....?"  
"Someone got into that case without making a scratch, and stole them. They stole a few other weird looking things too, things that an archaeologist hadn't gotten around to studying yet. And they left that pure gold cup, weird huh?"  
  
That's a bit beyond weird. More along the lines of another reason to leave the town. Maybe one of those nuts escaped from the asylum and was wandering around the woods, looking for helpless victims.  
"Come on back", she said. "You haven't even seen the paintings yet."  
  
As we headed towards the back, I glanced at a displayed photograph. It was of a single large house, with a few smaller ones around it. A plaque underneath it read: Brookhaven Asylum: 1820, Was used originally to house victims of the Plague. Restored, after much controversy during the construction of South Vale.  
  
In the next room, my new friend suddenly seemed to get rather edgy. She started twitching a little bit. Her eyes stated darting back and forth.  
"Is something wrong?", I asked.  
"No... just, I'll be right back."  
She ran into what I thought at first was the bathroom. But I had seen the bathroom, it was an office. I decided that it was none of my business and did some exploration.  
  
There were a few paintings of the town in this second room, but two stood out, cause they were weird. The first was of some guy wearing a huge pyramid shaped helmet that covered his entire head, carrying a spear. Behind him were people hung upside down in strange boxes. Underneath was a plaque that read: Misty Day Remains of the Judgment. The second one was of a huge table, covered in food and strange looking statues. It's plaque read: Crimson and White Banquets to Honor the Gods.  
  
She came out of the office, looking a lot more calm. I hoped to god she wasn't doing what I thought she was doing. Still, it was none of my business.   
"Umm..., what are these paintings of?", I asked her.  
"Not exactly sure", she said. "They were painted by a guy who visited the prison. The society believes that the first one is symbolic of the cruelties of the executioners. Those people are propped up to be killed by skewering. This didn't actually happen, but it gets the point across. I don't understand the second one at all."  
  
Well at they weren't ACTUALLY impaling people on spears. The second painting looked like some sort of ritualistic feasting. Good idea for a book. Occultist executioners torture prisoners for cheap thrills.  
"Where exactly is this prison?", I asked.  
"Right underneath us"  
"What? You mean underground?"  
  
"Yep. After the prison closed down in the 1950's, the state government didn't want anyone to know what was going on down there, so they sealed it up. These are the only things we recovered from the place."  
"You mean you recovered these dolls and stuff too?"  
"Yup, we have no access to the prison so we can't figure out what they were used for."  
"Well my buddy Farnwald is somewhat of an expert in the occult"  
Her eyes lit up. I thought I had just guaranteed Tom a date. But then something crossed my mind. Where was he?  
"Um, pardon me, I have to go find my partner."  
"No problem"  
  
Well, I headed back outside and found the equipment in the same spot where he dropped it. He was no where in sight. I felt sick at the thought of him going missing in this place. I headed around back to where the docks were, and I saw him sitting on the pier, looking out across the lake.  
  
"Where the hell did you go!", I yelled as I walked towards him. "You scared the crap out of me..."  
When I got closer, I noticed he looked very pale. His eyes were fixed on the beach. He was muttering strange things. Once again, he was scaring me.  
"Tom!!! What's wrong?"  
"G-g-g-g-ghost...."  
"Where where!!!!"  
"On the be-e-e-e-ach...."  
  
I looked long and hard at where he was pointing at. I saw nothing, but this didn't stop me. I nearly fell to my death trying to get down the rocks with all my equipment. I took a few pictures of the place, recorded a bit of nothing with my radio, and used the ghost-reader thingy. Nothing, absolutely nothing. I was about to climb back up, when my radio suddenly emitting static. I took a look at it, with nothing more than curiosity. I shook it, banged it, and it didn't stop until I took out the batteries. It immediately resumed when I placed them back in, and then it faded away a few seconds later.  
  
Exhausted, cranky, and with only a slight grip on my insanity, I trugged back up to Tom, who was beyond spooked. I was ready to yell, but decided that maybe this whole town was making both of us crazy. Who knows even, maybe something would develop on the film.  
"What exactly did you see?", I asked him.  
  
"It looked like, I dunno, a zombie. I didn't get a good look at it, but I know that its head was pointy. It walked out of the lake, and then walked right back in. I'm sorry about the equipment."  
"Hey Tom."  
"What?"  
"I think that girl in there wants your phone number"  
"Really! Oh that's great!"  
  
He jumped up, finally smiling for the first time since we got here, and ran back towards the cabin. Ahh... youth. I took one last look at the lake. My brief moment of happiness was suddenly replaced again with dread. I decided that I would head to the asylum for research, then spend only more night here. I could stay for the rest of tomorrow, and then sleep at a different hotel. What could happen in one night anyway? 


	3. Chapter 3: Mists

The girl's name was Nadine, and she didn't know anything about a cult. She was apparently too young to remember, she only knew that they set a fire at one time. Tom walked away disappointed, she already had a boyfriend. Too bad for him, maybe he'd find a better girlfriend at the mental hospital.  
  
The place looked old. They should at least have maintained the place. Chipped paint and rotten wood covered the huge house. Stone steps lead up to wooden doors. Looking up, I estimated the thing had three floors and an attic. The windows were tinted, since I guess its beneath us sane people to look upon the filthy insane.  
  
The door creaked open, scary huh? We were almost immediately stopped by a nurse. She was wearing one of those traditional nurse hat-things, which I thought hadn't been used since the 80's. She was pretty old, and had a nasty look on her face. I hoped she wouldn't be too much trouble...  
  
"What do you want!", she demanded.  
"Um... I have my name down for a visitation", I stated. "My name's Dennis Crocker..."  
"Yeah, wait right here..."  
  
She went into the room directly across from the door. I had a chance to examine my surroundings. The inside looked worse than the outside. Did anyone ever bother with maintenance in this town? I decided to take a look at the front message board. There was mostly boring crap about long-past events, but one caught my eye.  
  
Warning! Avoid this plant at all costs! White Claudia is a deadly hallucinogen! It has oblong leaves, white blossoms, and reaches a height of 10 to 15 inches. If you find it, please do your community a favor and destroy it!  
  
Things are sure looking up for this town! I'd never heard of White Claudia, and I didn't want to know anything more about it. Let the local health board deal with it, if they're capable of doing anything.  
  
For once, Tom didn't have to get the equipment out of the car. I doubt the doctors would appreciate me going through their hospital with that machine. After all, I told them   
I was an author, not a ghost hunter. The radio and camera were sufficient.  
  
The nurse came out with a completely different expression on her face. She actually smiled at me, revealing a line of rotted out teeth. Guess they have a bad dental plan.  
"Dr. Crocker sir!", she said with much enthusiasm. "Mr. S told us you'd be coming!"  
Ok, that's just too weird. It was time to find out who Mr. S was.  
"Who exactly is Mr. S?", I asked.  
"Why, he's the mayor. Sworn into office a few years ago after the original mayor died of a heart attack. Come, follow me."  
  
She walked to my left, Tom and I followed. The building was eerily quiet. The only thing I could hear was a metallic creaking, which I didn't like one bit. She opened the door to the Director's Room. It was kind of a small office for a guy who runs an entire hospital. His desk was really messy, covered with newspaper articles, medical books, and envelopes.  
  
He got up to shake my hand, and he had a very solid grip. His skin was cold and sent a chill to my heart. He was clean shaven, but his hair apparently was never cut, or combed caused it stuck out in all directions. He looked to be about forty or so, but his gray hair made him look much older.  
"Good day sir!", he said. "I understand you wish to interview some of my patients?"  
"Yes, this is my colleague, Thomas Farnwald"  
I could see that Tom didn't enjoy being the center of this man's attention. He was rather uncomfortable shaking the guy's hand. I simply must teach him a bit of etiquette when we get back to the university.  
  
"You know, you're not the first people to come here and interview some of my patients. There were some reporters..."  
"Yeah, I know, I read their articles. I don't believe that crap."  
That comment scared him a little bit. "But its the most logical explanation..."  
"I'll come up with my own explanation"  
"Ok... Now, only four patients are safe to talk to, and even they can get violent when aroused, follow me."  
  
He lead us through the first floor of the dismal hospital. As he opened the door to the stairs, I could've sworn I heard deep breathing coming from the other side of a nearby door labeled, Medical Rooms.  
  
"Isn't there an elevator here?", I asked.  
"It's in the Medical Rooms hallway, and that door is busted. Someone is supposed to be in here to fix it soon, they've been taking a long time."  
  
We reached the third floor landing and walked out into the hallway. Once again, this place was eerily quiet. Right across from the stairs was a keypad. The doctor punched in a few numbers, and loud machinery creaked the door open. We were in the patient's room hallway. Strange groans emitted from a few of the rooms. As I passed by one room, the patient banged on the door. The Director ran over, and banged back. The patient stopped.  
  
He took us to the room of Joseph Barken, assuring us the man was harmless. He looked harmless enough, sitting in a corner, stroking a locket of hair. He was disheveled, and I began to question the sanitation in this hospital.  
  
"Mr. Barken?", I asked.  
"Yes... what is it?", he asked in a whisper.  
I'd never dealt with the Mentally Unstable before. I'd done a lot of research on them, but never up close. He seemed perfectly harmless. I was curious about that locket.  
  
"Who's locket is that?"  
"My daughter's. I've looked all over this town for her, but she's completely vanished..."  
"That's too bad, I'm sorry"  
"I bet it has her..."  
Ok... here it comes. Absolute craziness. What separates me from them.  
"What is it?"  
"I don't know. It's a monster, an executioner. It's hunting me.."  
  
Poor guy. His eyes were darting back and forth. I could tell he was trying to control himself. Having read about schizophrenic, I knew that he was taking meds. I also knew that they caused a lot of mental distress. Suddenly his eyes rested on me, and they grew wider.  
"You're marked...", he whispered.  
"What are you talking about?"  
"You're just like us..."  
I didn't like that. I didn't like that one bit. I was not about to get compared to a nut.  
"I'm nothing like you!", I yelled.  
"Oh, but you are, you're like all of us. Heh heh heh..."  
  
I slowly walked backwards out the door. He continued laughing, staring at me in a deranged way. Tom had been taking notes the whole time, and the director just stared blankly at me. I swore for a second that he smirked.  
"Ok, can we see some of the other patients?"  
"Of course. The next controllable patient is Joshua Lewis. Be careful though, sometimes he can become violent."  
  
As he opened the door to this patient's room, I spied to my left another set of stairs. Judging the by the position of the other stairs, I estimated that it lead down to the Medical Rooms. I tapped Tom on the shoulder and whispered in his ear.  
"Keep him busy..."  
"WHAT!?!"  
"Shhh.... I just wanna check on something"  
  
I tiptoed away towards the stairs. I turned my head around, Tom was doing an ok job of keeping the Director's eyes off of me. The door made a bit of noise creaking open, and the Director looked at me. Strangely enough, he didn't say anything. I tripped, and fell through the door, and rolled down the stairs.  
  
I suffered a sharp blow to my head, but still managed to get up. Off in the distance, definitely outside the hospital, I heard the sound of sirens. It wasn't a police or ambulance siren, more like those sirens that go off throughout a city when a hurricane is going through. I found I was on the second floor landing. I went to go open the door, and found it was locked.  
  
I suddenly had a sickening, frightful feeling. I ran back up to the third landing. The door was locked. Not only that, but the Director was on the other side staring at me. I banged, and yelled, but he simply stood there, smiling, and eventually walked away. I knew there was something wrong with him.  
  
Luckily, the door on the ground floor was unlocked. I shouldn't say luckily though, cause I probably would've been better off waiting in the stairs for a few hours. The whole hall was wrecked. Boards stuck out of the floor, the ceiling had a several holes in it, and the walls were covered with chain-linked fencing.  
  
I walked cautiously, with a fear that the floor might suddenly give way. I finally reached the door that the Director said was broken. Well, apparently he was lying, cause it opened easy. What I saw next was the most shocking thing I had experienced in the town so far.  
  
The whole first floor, which I had just been in a few hours ago, was all wrecked like the Medical Hall. It was physically impossible, yet there it was. I guess the radio waves finally hit me. Might as well as ride this thing out.  
  
I crawled through the rubble towards the exit. As soon as I opened the door, a big puff of smoke blew in my face from outside. I thought the whole town was on fire, then I realized that I could easily breath this smoke. I headed outside, and held up my hands. I could see them, so why couldn't I see across the street? That's when I realized, it wasn't smoke, it was mist. Really thick mist. 


	4. Chapter 4: Monster

Chapter 4: Monster  
All right everyone, I don't know why, but whenever I upload .doc's, it has absolutely no paragraphs, when I upload a .txt, then the paragraphs get all messed up. I hope this chapter is readable to you. I wasn't gonna finish this, but the reviews have prompted me to continue. I didn't have spell check when I wrote this, hope its not too big of a problem...  
- Humble  
  
"What's going on here?", I asked out loud. "Where the hell am I?"  
Now I really began to question my sanity. It was simply impossible for an entire town's population to simply dissapear. I kept trying to think of some logical explanations, and the only one that seemed probable was that aliens had picked them up.  
I had the feeling that it might be dangerous walking around an empty town, so I checked my pockets to see if I had anything useful. I pulled out my tape recorder, my camera, and my wallet. All these things would prove useless if I had to fight for my survival. I wished that I never gave up smoking, cause a lighter would at least bring me a little comfort.  
I decided there was no point in simply standing in front of the hospital. I had to try looking for a phone, or a radio, or something. I had no idea where to start looking, but decided that I should try to head towards one of the exits, hopefully finding some help along the way. From where I stood, the easiest way out of town would be east on Nathan Avenue. This street was to my left, so I headed down the stone steps and started walking.  
The mist made it very diffucult to keep track of where I was. I had never seen mist get so thick before. It had been foggy for the past few days, but this was ridiculous. Could the mist be related to everyone's sudden dissapearence?  
Suddenly, without warning, I walked right into a ditch, tumbling to the ground. As I wiped the dirt off me, I noticed that it wasn't a ditch, more like a gigantic canyon. I got down on my knees and started to crawl into it, when I made a better decision. I picked up a rock and threw it into the chasm. I never heard it hit the bottom.  
"Earth is being invaded by Aliens", I told myself. "Their spaceship must've created this pit. I was driving along this road only an hour ago, this simply shouldn't be here."  
Not wanting to backtrack, I decided to check the roadsides for a possible alternative route. The east side of the road was blocked by a fence, and the west side was blocked by some buildings. I spied a set of stairs leading to an open door. A sign declared that this location was Heaven's Night Erotic Entertainment. Chirping with joy, I made climbed up and entered the building.  
Scents of cigarrettes and liquor invaded my nostrils. Strange, considering the bar looked like it had been abandoned for centuries. The bar was unattended, but some inviting bottles were on display. I had half a mind just to get smashed right then, thinking everything would go back to normal when I sombered up.  
Ok, more like a full mind. I opened up a bottle of Scotch. It smelled disgusting, but I didn't care. I was about to drown away all my problems, when I heard a loud crash behind one of the closed doors. Out of fear, I broke the bottle into a nice sharp weapon, and headed towards the door.  
On the other side was a man, a very young man. He was lieing on the floor, with shards of broken glass all around him. Above him was the window he had busted. First question that came to my mind, why in the hell didn't he just use the door?  
As he sat up, I saw that he had some blood on his dark clothes. His formely blonde hair had turned brown from the mud it had been soaking in. In his hand he held a long butchers knife which was also covered in blood. His eyes had a look of both confusion and fear.  
"What are you doing with that knife?", I asked, holding my bottle up in case he was hostile.  
"It protects me", he murmored. His had an old cigarrette smokers voice, which didn't go along with his appearence. I hoped to god he wasn't crazy and that I'd have to kill the only person I had met so far.  
"Who are you?", I asked.  
"My name's Jack..., Jack Davis."  
"Jack, what's going on here, where's everyone?"  
"I dunno", he answered. "Its been like this for awhile."  
"How long?"  
"For as long as I can remember"  
That scared me even more than he did. It was time to get some straight answers.  
"What the hell are you talking about?", I yelled at him. That seemed to agitate him, and his eyes changed from an expression of fear to one of rage.  
"Don't you be screaming at me!", he yelled, brandishing the knife above his head. "Do you think I wanted this! Do you think I want to be here!"  
At this point, he seemed to undergo another change, as he dropped down to sit on the floor. He put his hands to his face, and began crying.  
"I'm sorry...", he whispered. "I've been bad..."  
He stood up and started walking towards the door. Why did he want to go back out there if he had been so desperate to get in?  
"Where are you going?", I asked him.  
"I have to get out of here, just like you. Be careful though, it can get dangerous outside."  
Without another word, he opened a back door and left me all alone. I determined that he was nuts, and I needed to find a phone. There wasn't one in the bar, so I went through the door where Jack had come from. It was an office of sorts, if you believe anything in a strip club could be considered an office. The phone gave out no dial tone. I followed its cord, which lead into the wall. It should've been working, it just wasn't.  
I decided I'd leave the same way Jack did, maybe catch up with him and get to Nathan Avenue at the same time. The back door lead into an alley. Making a map of the strip joint in my head, I determined that I needed to go to my left to get to Nathan. I passed by some interesting grafitti, which brought me back to my days before the orphanage. My earliest memories were from when I was twelve, wondering the streets with a gang. Thank god I was saved from that life.  
One of the pictures caught my eye. It was of a huge triangle symbol. It was sorrounded by a circle, had a second inner triangle, and each point had a symbol. The one on top was of an eye, the one on the left was of a snake, and the one on the right was a another triangle. I placed my hands on the paint to see if it was wet. It was wet, and it tasted like salt. It was blood.  
Fear gripped my heart as I looked on the ground. A trial of blood lead towards Nathan Avenue, and I was gonna have to follow it. I didn't what to, but it was necessary. I walked slowly towards to far off road, gripping my broken bottle very defensively. Without any warning, my recorder started emitting static. I took out the batteries, it still emitted static. And if you find that strange, then this next part is even stranger.  
Something was moving towards me, blocking my passage to the street. It was moving slowly towards me, closer and closer. It hunched over as it walked, and limped with each step it took. As it got closer, I could tell it was something bad. I mean, who walks around without any skin? It wore a cloak and veil, I guessed it might have once been a woman, and old woman. It lifted up its faceless head and screamed, very loudly.  
I saw a door behind it, and I knew that was where I had to go. Gripping my bottle for good luck, I surged foward, directly towards the monster. I slashed the bottle back in forth like a madman. It didn't seem to care, cause all it did was scratch me. It had veeerrrry sharp nails that I'm sure it could impale me on.  
I stabbed it directly in the chest. It screamed and tried to cover the bleeding wound. I knew it was time to leave, so I flew through that door, and slammed it behind me.  
As soon as the door was closed, the radio stopped emitting static. I took another look at it. Did its going off have something to do with that monster. Gathering up my courage, I opened the door. The monster had completely vanished.  
I closed the door again, I wanted to look for a phone in this place before I headed back outside. Who knew if there were more of those things around anyway? I was in a storage room, of what I guess was a bowling alley, due to the large number of pins scatterred about the floor. Not wanting to waste my time, I opened the nearest door which lead to the main room. It was filthy, like pretty much every other room I had been in this town.  
There was a phone behind the desk. I picked it up, and got a dial tone. I cried out in releif, and hit 9-1-1.  
"9-1-1", said the voice on the other side. "What is you're emergency?"  
Now what the hell am I going to tell her? That I'm being attacked by monsters, that everyone in a town has dissapeared and the only person I had seen so far was crazy?  
"There's a fire!!", I shouted.  
"O..k.. s.... ..r w... ..l... s...nd........."  
The phone was emitting static, as was my radio. That's not a good thing. I gripped my bottle and quickly spun around. I got a face full of death.  
The thing was dead, that's for sure. I couldn't tell where its clothes ended and its skin began. It was wearing a strange looking uniform of sorts, but it seemed almost interwined with the thing's dirty, foul epidermus. The most distinguishing feature was its hat, or helmet I should say. It was made of some sort of metal, and was carved into a pyramid shape. It covered the things entire face, like an executioner's mask. In its hands, it held a huge, sharp, bloody knife.  
I'm not religious, but I think I started praying. My little broken bottle was no match for its weapon of choice. I put up my hands, but it didn't do any good. I felt the knife cut threw my arms and slammed down on my head. Then, I remembered nothing more. 


	5. Chapter 5: White Powders

Okay... hello again people. My severe lack of motivation combned with a whole  
lot of other crap I have to do means that this story will probably move along  
slowly. But I want to finish it. I hope the last chapter didn't turn people off  
somewhat.  
  
Chapter 5: White Powders  
Running... they'll never catch me. I hope they don't catch me. I want to get as far away from them as possible. I must find a place to stay. So hungry... So cold... I'll sleep anywhere, with any sort of company. Anyone's better than them.  
  
"Sir... wake up sir... MISTER CROCKER!!!!"  
"Whaa... what's going on...?"  
  
My head hurt a lot. I opened my eyes and saw Farnwald standing over me. I was very confused, cause I still had arms and I wasn't dead.  
"We're in our Motel Room. Me and the director found you passed out in the stairwell. The doctors said that you had received a sharp blow to the head, but that you'd probably wake up in a few hours, so I brought you here"  
  
No, what I had experienced was not a dream. It was way too realistic and I completely remembered what had happened. This town was too fucked up. I didn't want to stay here anymore.  
  
"We're leaving", I said blatantly.  
"But we just got here a day ago!", argued Farnwald.  
  
I suddenly felt light-headed again, like I was going to pass out. For some reason, this caused me to reconsider my situation. I asked myself, "Which is more possible, all that stuff being real or you having a realistic dream?" I grunted at my own logic, but made a different decision.  
"Fine", I said. "We'll stay here one more night, but then we're leaving. Why do you want to stay anyway?"  
  
"Cause I have... stuff to do tonight"  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"I was... uh... invited to a social gathering"  
"You mean a keg party, right?"  
"I don't know what beverages they will be serving"  
"How did you manage to..."  
"That girl.. Nadine, or whatever her name was, invited me"  
"Where'd she..."  
"She waved me down. She wanted to give you something"  
  
He pulled a white envelope out of his pocket and handed it to me. I opened it up and found several pieces of paper, one being a letter. The rest were diagrams and writings. The letter read:  
  
Dear Mr. Crocker,  
  
I had completely forgotten about this. A report was done by some college professor a few months ago on the objects recovered from the prison. I included the report and an old map of the prison I managed to find. Hope this helps.  
  
- Nadine  
  
"Um... sir?"  
"Yeah, go, and stay out of trouble"  
After Tom had left, I decided to take a look at the report. The map wasn't interesting, it looked like any other prison. It was very old though. Putting it in my pocket, I took a look at the report:  
  
Subject: Artifacts recovered from Toluca Prison  
  
Author: J. Johansen  
  
Date: 2/16/02  
  
The artifacts I examined were a set of paintings, a golden goblet, and a straw doll painted with a triangle across its body. The first painting was of an executioner standing in front of his skewered victims. He was wearing an odd pyramid shaped helmet. I believe the shape of the helmet is related to the triangle symbol on the doll and goblet. I have never seen this symbol before and the local library will be closed for the next few weeks. I will have to run a search on it when I get back to Brahms.  
  
The second painting is confusing. It displays a dinner table with food, candles, and what looks like the golden cup. It reads: Crimson and White Banquets to Honor the Gods. Considering that pretty much all of America was monotheistic during this time period, I believe "to the gods" must be symbolic. Or perhaps not, its quiet possible that some of the prisoners were practicing one of the older religions, since the dominant one had betrayed them. If a prisoner was charismatic enough, their beliefs could end up spreading to guards of weak faith. Eventually, they might have started conducting rituals, thus this painting. Of course, this is only speculation.  
  
The straw doll is not voodoo. It does not resemble anyone, there is no hair, and the only thing painted on it is the triangle symbol. I've heard rumors that a cult used to live in this town. Could they have been attempting to revive the old religion that was once practiced by the prisoners? I'd love to find the place where the cult practiced their rituals. I'll be coming back here in a day or two to conduct more research.  
  
So I'm not the only one with the occult prison idea. I suddenly found myself much more attracted to the town. I also wanted to find where the cultists practiced their rituals. Too bad my experience so far had made me simply want to get the info and leave.  
  
I decided to ride into town, the shopping district. It was about 8:00, I wanted a bite to eat and didn't feel up to having the cereal I brought for dinner. After taking a look at my tourist's map, I picked out a place called "Sun Cafe" along Simmons Street.  
  
It was difficult to drive because of the fog. There was too much damn fog in this town and it was too damn cold. I turned the heat up, but was treated simply to a blast of freezing air.  
"God damn it!", I yelled out. As I turned the conditioner off, I saw something I didn't like in the rear view mirror. It looked like that pyramid-helmet monster. Of course, when I turned my head around there was nothing there. As I turned back around, I was forced to slam on the breaks. My headlights had mysteriously gone out and it was way too dark and foggy to continue driving.  
  
I pulled over to what I hoped was the sidewalk, and climbed out of my car. I felt something touch my face that sent a chill to spine.  
  
"It's snowing... It's not supposed to be snowing, it never snows this time of year", I said out loud hoping god would hear me and remember that it wasn't winter.  
  
I stared directly at the ground in an attempt to get my bearings. I don't really know how, but eventually, I managed to back up against a building. Wind had started to pick up, and it was extremely cold. I wanted shelter, and I wanted it fast. I groped along the building until I finally found a door. I pushed in and fell through, into the darkness.  
  
My lighter came out, it was far too windy to use outside, but was now perfect. It was the lobby of some sort of office. Along the back end of the room was a long desk for a secretary or teller to stand behind. I looked at the back wall and saw the seal of the Silent Hill Police Department.  
  
"HELLO!!", I shouted out to no response. "How could there not be any cops in a police station!"  
  
Not wanting to bore myself waiting in one single room, I strode to my left and opened a creaky wooden door. It lead to an office of some kind, probably for the officer on duty, of which there was none. I knew I shouldn't have been going through official police documents, but something really caught my eye. It was a report on that poison, White Claudia or whatever:  
Recommend Emergency Scheduling Procedures for the hallucinogen, White Claudia. It fits the definition of a Schedule 1 drug, and has been causing a few problem in the Silent Hill Area Lately. The plant is synthesized into a powder to be inhaled. May be easily passed off for various other substances such as cocaine. During the initial intoxication, the user will have very pleasant hallucinations for at least eight hours. If the user continues taking it, he/she will become physically and mentally addicted. Three times is all that is necessary. It is one of the few hallucinogens with physical withdrawal symptoms, similar to those of narcotics. During withdrawal, the addict will also experience extremely unpleasant hallucinations, making discontinuation practically impossible.  
Images of Nadine and that other kid flooded into my mind. If they were calling for an Emergency Scheduling, then the stuff might still be legal. "Maybe this is why this whole town is so dreary...",I thought. "But that still doesn't explain the unusual weather conditions..."  
  
I heard that siren again. It was even louder than last time. I prayed I wasn't about to have another one of those nightmares. I began to feel faint, and dropped down to the floor. When the sound finally stopped, I opened my eyes and found myself in hell. 


	6. Chapter 6: Second Vision of Hell

Hey everyone. For some reason, I can't seem to review on FanFiction.net, so I'll give props  
here to Windwalker for his excellent piece.   
Chapter 6: Second Vision of Hell  
  
The room I was in had undergone a radical change. The walls were charred and rusted, as though a fire had raged through the building. It also looked old, like it had been abandoned for a few centuries already. The desk I was sitting at was still there, but it was covered in blood. The musty smell of decay filled my nostrils.  
  
I cautiously stood up, and felt the floor dig into my skin as I did so. It wasn't a floor anymore, it was more like a metal grate stretched over a chasm of darkness. I didn't feel like I was dreaming, but it was the only logical explanation.  
  
I opened the door that would lead me back to foyer. It looked even worse than the office, as there was a big hole in the grating. Not desiring to know how far down it went, I tried the door to take me outside. It was locked.  
  
"Ok...", I told myself. "Just stay calm, don't think too much. All we have to do is find the key."  
  
I turned around and screamed at what I thought was a person standing at the back of the room. Upon closer examination, I realized it wasn't a person, but a statue. It was in the form of a scantily clad female. Underneath it was, amazingly, some sort of keypad and a plaque. The plaque read:  
Speaketh the true name of Venus.  
  
  
It didn't take me long to realize that I was supposed to enter some sort of code on the keypad. With my infinite knowledge of paganism, I knew that the true Greek name of Venus was Aphrodite. I typed that name in on the keypad. It was a mistake.  
  
A loud, thunderous voice rocked the police station. "Die Heathen!!" I didn't like the sound of that. My radio started to go off again. It frightened me.  
  
I ran towards the door opposite the office. It lead to a burnt out hallway with a few doors on the sides. It was rather dark, so I lit up my lighter. There was a person standing in the middle of the hallway. He had his back to me, but I could tell from the uniform that it was a cop.  
  
"Hey!", I yelled out to him. He did not answer. When he turned around, I realized it was because he had no mouth. There were a lot of other things he was missing, eyes, nose, and any distinguishing facial features. Instead, there was a mass of fleshy bubbles that rose and fell continuously where his face should've been. He was holding a blood-soaked machete.   
  
I screamed, and ran into a nearby door, slamming it behind me. I could hear him pounding on it, ready to slice me to bits. I surveyed the landscape, and jumped for joy. I was in the stations armory.  
  
As I got closer to what looked like the weapons rack, I groaned. There was only one gun left, a small handgun. I wanted an AK-47, but I guess this would do. At that moment, the faceless cop burst through the door. It must've had super strength or something.  
  
I aimed my gun, and fired right between the things eyes. It stumbled backwards, and I thought it was dead. Then, it got back up. I shrieked, and instinctively fired again, and again. Finally it didn't get up, but it was still squirming about the floor. With all the negative emotions that had built up in me over the past few days, it was an easy task to run over and slam me foot down on the things head. Finally, it stopped moving.  
  
I fainted down on the sharp metal grate in exhaustion. The radio stopped emitting static. I didn't understand the science of it, but I think the radio went off whenever one of those things were nearby. I wonder if I should call it science...  
  
I got down on my knees to look at what I had killed. The uniform was somehow weaved into the things skin, as though they were one and the same. It didn't have any internal organs, its insides were nothing but blood. It wasn't holding the machete, its hand WAS the machete. I knew one thing, there was nothing like this anywhere else on the planet.  
  
Inside the things pocket was what I like to call a "gift from god". It was a pocket flashlight. I clipped it on the inside of my shirt pocket. This way I could hold my gun and still have one free hand. Speaking of gun, I searched the room thoroughly and found a box of bullets. That wasn't only what I found.  
  
There was something written on the southern wall. Above it was that damn triangle symbol again. Below it was what sounded like a riddle:  
  
1 First reverse the symbol of me  
2 Choose the one that leads the legion  
3 Do not complete the circle and stab  
4 Flip the first symbol back again  
5 Cut off the savior's head  
6 Again, reverse  
  
I had no clue what it meant, but it sounded important, so I wrote it down. I decided to go back to the foyer and examine that statue. Some sort of blue mist was coming out of the hole in the center of the room. I ignored it and looked at the statue.  
  
It hadn't changed. Why didn't Aphrodite work? There were several other love goddesses I knew, but it didn't make sense to try them all, I'd be dead before I finished. Maybe the riddle had something to do with it? Hmm, six lines, maybe each line was a letter?  
  
First reverse the symbol of me... Hmm, me equals "I" right? "I" reversed is the letter "H". Leading the legion would of course be "A". Do not complete the circle would be C... and stab? Stab into it... "G"! Flip the first symbol, back to "I". Cut off the savior's head... Jesus on the cross came to mind, cut off his head and it would be "T". Again reverse, probably the "I" back to "H" again. HAGITH  
  
It sounded like a name, but not one I had ever heard of before. Of course, I still wasn't sure if that's what the riddle meant, but it was as close as could get. I typed in HAGITH, and I heard the voice again, "Ascend to the heavens chosen one."  
  
That must've been good, because I heard some machinery go off. The wall behind the statue opened up to reveal a set of stairs. Without a second thought, I charged up them. I heard the wall move back in place behind me.  
  
As I climbed the metal stairs to who knows where, I thought about what had happened in the previous hour. People don't just build riddles into the mechanisms of a police station. I felt as though I was being tested and guided through this mess. My thoughts were interrupted as I bumped into something soft and screamed.  
  
There was a dead body propped in front of me. It had intentionally been stuck to the wall, hopefully after the poor person (I couldn't tell what gender because of the mutilation) had expired. It looked like it was on display, maybe to warn me. A more horrid thought crossed my mind that the individual who ran this place used the body as decoration. They apparently had very specific tastes.  
  
I ignored the body, and continued my ascent. Finally I came to a steel door with a metal valve. It took a lot of effort to turn the valve, but eventually, the door burst open and I got a second face full of mist, only this time it was blue.  
  
I was apparently on the roof of the station. I could see light snowflakes falling down from the sky. Too bad it was too misty to see the sky, I had to grope my way around with a fear of falling off. I guessed there had to be a fire escape somewhere, but my radio went off again...  
  
I jumped to my feet and grasped my gun tightly. Absolute fear is extremely painful. Your body wants you to stay in one place for some reason. It seems to me like that would be the worst thing to do. I jumped as I heard metal scratching against metal. The sound got closer and closer.  
  
I saw that pyramid headed thing again. It was obviously related to the paintings in the Historic Center, it might even be the ghost of those evil executioners. I didn't have time to ponder this though, as the sound I had heard was coming from the freak dragging a humongous knife along the ground.  
  
I fired my gun at the thing. I swore that I hit it, but it sounded as though my bullets had hit something hard and ricocheted off it. I turned tail and ran, but tripped over my feet. When I turned around, I saw it holding the knife above my head. I rolled out of the way and felt the vibrations of it hitting the rooftop.  
  
I got to my feet and ran away again. My gun was out of bullets, and I'd be damned if I knew how to reload it. I heard that siren go off in my head again. Pyramid head seemed to react to it, as though it was a calling of some kind. It turned around and walked down the fire escape I had so desperately been looking for.  
  
My head hurt like hell, and I stumbled to the floor. The world once again seemed to dissolve around me. Strange visions of a mist filled Silent Hill flashed through my brain. I winched my eyes in pain. When I opened them up, it was night time, and I was sitting in my car. 


	7. Chapter 7: Different Point of View

Chapter 7: Different Point of View  
My name's Tom, Tom Farnwald. Mr. Crocker said I should relate my side of the  
story to you occasionally, where it becomes necessary. Considering the events which took  
place while he was god knows where, it certainly is necessary.  
  
I had gotten an invitation from this hot goth girl, Nadine, to go to one of the local parties. Parties are the universe's gift to teenagers. There's no other place where you can get messed up on lots of different things in a safe place surrounded by your favorite kids of people. I love booze, pot, and hot girls, and because this was a goth party, there'd be plenty of other interesting things.  
  
The town was its usual quiet self. It was getting colder by the second, but I had  
gotten used to it. I was sure at the time that whatever problems this town was having, it  
was probably the government's fault. My theory at the time was that they were  
experimenting with new technology in the region without any regard for people's lives.  
My theory was about to proven very wrong.  
  
I'd walked for what seemed like days down Bloch Street towards my destination. I  
passed by some... boring landmarks. I don't know why anyone would build a store  
devoted entirely to selling chainsaws. I passed by a run-down church. It was the only  
church I had seen in any part of the town, and it looked like it had been abandoned. For  
some reason that did not sit well with me.  
  
There was a paper nailed to the door of the church. Wanting to know the reasons  
for the its abondonment, I decided to take a closer look. "This building condemned by  
order of the Mayor." People didn't knock over churches without a very good reason. The  
cracks in the ceiling and walls looked like good enough reason for me.  
  
Loud blasts of electric guitar cords hit my ears as I approached the house Nadine  
had told me about. Every house I passed looked identical. None of them had garages,  
instead, residents were intended to park in alleyways that housed multiple garages. It was  
a weird design, why would anyone want to walk a block just to get to their car in the  
morning.  
  
I knocked on the door and a familiar face answered. It wasn't Nadine, it was the  
guy me and Mr. Crocker had seen when we first got to town. He looked like even more of  
a mess than the first time I saw him. I could tell he was high, drunk, and possibly tripping.  
  
"Who the frigin hell er you... an outsider or shhhomething...?"  
"Uhh... I'm Tom... Nadine invited me."  
"Nadine... com'here, I'm shooo, oh godsh..."  
  
He stumbled back into the house. I thought his entire performance was funny, but  
what the hell did he mean by outsider? Then again, these are goths, they're weird, no  
matter what town they live in.  
  
It was a bit dark inside. There weren't as many people as I expected, other than  
Nadine and the wasted dude, I counted four guys and five girls. They were all dressed  
similar to Nadine, with various piercings, tattoos, and huge gobs of makeup. Surprisingly,  
I noticed there were no pentagrams or inverted crosses.  
  
"Heeeyyy Toooommm....", slurred Nadine as she came to give me a hug. At first I  
thought she was just happy, but her pupils were enlarged. Oh well...  
  
"Hey you", I said as I hugged her back. I liked her for some reason. Maybe it was  
because she seemed so sweet and innocent, yet also was into the same stuff I was. That's a  
rare combination. Only difference, I was more into studying the occult, she seemed more  
into practicing it.  
  
It was a weird party. Not many people seemed up to having a conversation.  
Feeling no need to get drunk, I sipped casually on my glass of wine. I've never been to a  
college party where the only alcohol being served was red wine.  
  
Eventually, some guy crawled up to me and asked, "Heeey, wannnaa tryy some  
PTV...?"  
"What the hell is PTV?"  
  
He held up a bag of white powder, then snorted a line off his arm. I had never  
heard of PTV before, I guessed it was some new club drug. Either way, I didn't like  
messing around with anything but weed and booze.  
  
As usual, I got drunk without realizing it. Nadine took this opportunity to take  
advantage of me. I had no idea why, but she grabbed my arm and started dragging me  
somewhere. I suddenly found myself in the backyard, and she started kissing my neck.  
"But I thought you had a boyfriend...", I objected.  
"I only said that because you're an outsider. You won't be very long."  
  
I was too drunk to consider her words, so we started making out. It was pleasant,  
unfortunately I don't remember much about it. I do suddenly remember a plant suddenly  
growing very fast out of a plastic table and a swarm of bees being released as the flower  
bloomed and then flying into the shape of a triangle.  
  
"What the hell... o shit!"  
Reality as I formerly knew it began to dissolve. I felt my soul rip away from my  
body. Suddenly, I felt as though I could taste the color of Nadine's hair and smell the  
sounds of the party. Fearful as to what was happening, I somehow managed to stumble  
out the back fence and into an alleyway.  
  
It was obvious later, though I had no idea at the time, that somehow had slipped  
something into my drink. It was that PTV stuff, some sort of intense hallucinogen. As I  
stumbled out of the alleyway onto the street, I began to enjoy my experience. It wasn't  
painful or unpleasant, just weird.  
  
Nadine had followed me, and I stumbled into her. She laid me down on the  
concrete and smiled.  
"How do you feel?", she asked.  
"Like I've met god..."  
"You have, although you should not call Him by that name."  
  
All the parties patrons had gathered around me. Each one was wearing a black  
robe over their usual attire. Two of the larger ones walked towards me, holding a large  
gold container over their heads. Nadine forced me to my feet as they took positions to  
pour whatever was in that thing over my head.  
  
A pair of rough hands grasped me from behind and pulled me towards its source. I  
fell into something and felt soft leather hit my back. Then, I was suddenly moving rapidly  
and the goths disappeared from view. Mr. Crocker had pulled me into his car.  
  
"We're leaving...", he said as he closed the door behind me.  
"That sounds pretty, talk more, I like you.  
"What the hell's wrong with you boy!"  
He grabbed my face and forced my eyelids open. He stared directly into them and  
jumped back in shock.  
"What have you been up to, eh?"  
"Partying!"  
  
"It sure looks like it. Someone probably drugged you up with that White Claudia  
crap. Everyone in this town is nuts. Everything in this town is nuts. We're getting out of  
here!"  
  
Suddenly Mr. Crocker was forced to slam on the breaks as someone jumped out  
into the middle of the road. We swerved about and just barely missed running into the  
person. Luckily, we didn't crash. I was still tripping at the time, so I am now relating what I was later told.  
  
An elderly man had intentionally stepped out into the road. He had long white hair  
on his head and his face. He wore a long brown robe tied together with a purple sash. On  
the robe were several symbols Crocker had never seen before.  
  
"What the hell's your goddamn problem!!!", Mr. Crocker screamed.  
"Do not flee yet, said the man. Your prescence is still desired."  
"Who are you and what are you talking about...?"  
"The darkness friend. The darkness that consumed this town and is now  
consuming your unclean soul."  
"Do you know what's going on in this place?"  
"All will be revealed shortly. As for now, your prescence is requested at the house  
of knowledge."  
"That's great, but I have no time for this. You can deal with the darkness, I'm  
getting out of here!"  
  
I heard the door slam as Crocker got back in the car. I had curled up into a ball in  
the back seat. We seemed to drive for hours, even though the tunnel was only a few  
blocks away. Once again, the car suddenly came to a screeching halt. Red lights flashed on  
and off from a multitude of police cruisers. It was then that I heard something that chilled  
me to my bones.  
"What do you mean all roads out of town are closed!" 


	8. Chapter 8: The House of Knowledge

Chapter 8: The House of Knowledge  
  
I've been a very bad author, I know it. I've had a lot of crap to do, with school and all, real school now, college, yuck. Anywhoo, I'll probably write more chapters, but its still gonna take me awhile. I never actually watched Twin Peaks until after I got Mr. Nguyen's review, and I can see the relationship between Cooper and Crocker. Crocker seems a bit more down to Earth than Cooper to me though. Farnwald is more there for comic relief than backup, unlike the Sherrif in Twin Peaks.   
  
All roads out of the hellish town were closed. Avalanches had apparently made it completely impossible to leave, even by mountain trails. This pissed me off, but at the same time, I no longer was as shocked. Wierd things were natural in this place, almost as if a brand new set of physical laws had overcome the previous ones.  
  
I carried by radio, gun, and camera on me at all times now. I couldn't understand why, but it seemed that whenever something threatening was nearby, the radio would emit static. The gun I had leftover from the police station, which proves that my experience there wasn't all in my head.  
  
Farnwald and I were on our way to the library, as this is all I could think of in terms of "House of Knowledge". Farnwald was holding a long tube out the window, which connected to my physcic energy reader. The people we passed didn't seem to noticed, they just continued their dreary marches to who knows where.  
  
We pulled up to the library, which lay on the Western half of Silent Hill, along Sagan Street. Compared to the rest of the town, this place seemed like it was at least relatively taken care of. It was very old fashioned, made completely out of stone and marble. Gargoyle's stared down at us, and the entrance was flanked by a pair of lion statues. In this place, I wouldn't be shocked if they suddenly came to life and attacked.  
  
It was starting to get foggy, which was never a good sign. I hustled Tom inside, with all the equipment. The receptioness didn't look too happy to have us there, but one mention of Mr. S made her very compliant to my demands.  
  
"How big is this place?", I asked.  
  
"Three stories high sir, nonfiction on the first floor, fiction on the second, and refernce books on the third. Do you need a map?"  
  
"A map, of a library? No thanks, could you just direct me to where Silent Hill history books are?  
  
At my mentioning of this she started to get a little flustered.  
  
"Those books are all down in the basement, you'll have to follow me."  
  
She lead us through the ancient and grand library. It seemed even bigger than the New York Public Library to me. Stained glass windows depicted strange scenes of mostly female angels with strange captions like "Daughter of God". I'm agnostic, but even I know its the son of god.  
  
"It's down this way", said the receptioness.  
  
A door opened into a staircase leading to darkness.  
  
"Aren't there any lights down there?", I asked.  
  
"Our electricity doesn't run down there, its very old... here."  
  
She handed me a flashlight. Not a normal type of flashlight, it actually clipped to the inside of my breast pocket. As we started down the stairs I wondered, "Why didn't she come with us?"  
  
I had a queer feeling about the place. It was small, dust filled study that had apparently not been used for ages. There were a few desks and three rows of books. I immediately began looking at the titles, they were typical history books and I didn't really know where to start. As I walked through the stacks, I noticed a book, opened on a desk, that was stained with a bit of blood.  
  
I thoroughly searched the room, but found no one. At this point of my "vacation", I didn't find anything the least bit shocking. I decided to read the page it was opened to:  
  
There is no religion that has remained unchanged from the  
  
moment it was founded.  
  
This one is no exception. When the religion fell into the  
  
hands of immigrants, it was deeply influenced by their own  
  
original Christian beliefs. For example, the traditional  
  
representations of these primal Gods may be given the names  
  
and descriptions of christians angels. Thus shared characteristics  
  
begin to appear.  
  
(There is also one rare example of the chief deity, 'Creator of   
  
Paradise' or 'Lord of Serpents and Reeds', being dubbed with a   
  
demons name of course, this was not done by believers but by   
  
their opponents.)  
  
The book was titled Syncretic Religions. It was interesting enough for me, I figured I'd take it back to the hotel. After all, this place was creepy.  
  
As I made my way back towards the stairs, I noticed that Farnwald had vanished. He wasn't in the room behind me, so he must have gone back upstairs. I climbed up to follow him, but then  
  
I felt a pain in my head and stumbled down. I heard the sound of the air raid sirens going off in the distance.  
  
I knew what this was. Opening the door in front of me, I found the library in a state of decay. Through the windows I saw that it had gotten extremely misty outside, again. I strode quickly towards the exit, but I was forced to halt in my tracks, as I saw a man kneeling in the center of the foyer.  
  
It was Jack Davis, the guy I had seem in the Strip Club when I first entered this strange, otherworldly place. His clothes were a bit more torn up then before and he had a huge, bleading gash across his forehead. Instead of a butcher knife, he carried a pistol with him. The knife had taken up a home in his belt.  
  
I called out to him, and he spun around and unloaded his clip in my direction. Luckily, I was still somewhat in the door to the basement, and managed to duck inside before getting hit.  
  
"Hold your fire! I'm not a monster!" I screamed.  
  
"You better not be. Come out with your hands in the air!"  
  
I did as he told and he lowered his pistol. He looked somewhat relieved, but still extremely tense.  
  
"It's you... Dennis, right?"  
  
"Uhh... yeah. Listen, have you been going through the same reality shifts as me?"  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?"  
  
"Don't things ever turn back to normal for you?"  
  
"Huh? Its been like this forever, as soon as I escaped from that place"  
  
"What place?"  
  
He apparently didn't like my probing questions, cause he pointed his gun at me.  
  
"Shut up! Its none of your goddamn business!"  
  
It was then that my radio started emitting static. I reached into my pocket to pull it out, and discovered the gun that I had found in the tripped out police station was with. It wasn't after I returned that I found it missing, but now it had mysteriously returned.  
  
Davis looked frightened. Without another word, he charged into a door in the back. A huge, black shape from the ceiling cast a dark shadow on the floor. Whatever it was, it had several sets of arms, and I didn't feel much like waiting around to see the rest. I ran through the door that Davis had gone, which took me into a hallway.  
  
There was a puddle of blood and a dead body, with bloody footprints leading down the hall. I didn't feel like examining it, and  
  
just followed what I assumed were Davis's footprints. I ran for what seemed like hours down the hall, through more than doorway. It didn't seem like there was any logical pattern to where I was going, I just followed the prints.  
  
I found myself back at the front entrance to the library. I had come out of a door in the side of the stairs that lead to the second floor. My radio was still emitting static, so I didn't feel the least bit comfortable yet. It was too dark to see up the stairs, and this gave me an eery feeling.  
  
Taped to the door was a small box and a note. The box was actually a flashlight. I tried switching it on, but the batteries were dead. I read the note which was written in blood:  
  
  
  
WEAR IT  
  
It was one of those flashlights that connect to the front shirt in your pocket. Whoever was playing this game with notes and messages probably wouldn't be satisfied until I put it on, so I did. Suddenly the writing changed.  
  
NOW TURN AROUND  
  
I followed the directions again. All of a sudden the flashlight switched on, and I saw something at the top flight that chilled my blood.  
  
A little girl in school clothes, probably about eight or nine, was stuck to the back of the wall. By stuck, I mean a huge knife was stabbed through her chest into the back of the wall. Without hesistation, I charged up the stairs and ran to her side.  
  
I checked her pulse, and found that she was dead, just like everyone I met in the town, either dead or crazy. I fell to my knees, and burst out in tears. I noticed that she had been carrying a book with her. I picked it up and read the front cover, "Book of Lost Memories", it read. There was a bookmark in it, and I read the page it was turned to.   
  
Toluca Lake, the town's main tourist attraction. This clear, beautiful   
  
lake has another side as well. It may seem like just a typical ghost   
  
story that you might find in any number of old towns across the country.   
  
But in this case, the legend is true. On a fog-bound Novmber day in 1918,the Little Baroness, a ship filled with tourists, failed to return to port. A newspaper article from back then simply says "It most likely   
  
sunk for some reason". Despite an extensive police search, not a single   
  
fragment of the ship nor any of the 14 bodies of passengers or crew has   
  
ever been recovered to this day. In 1939, an even stranger incident   
  
occurred.  
  
Many corpses rest at the bottom of this lake. Their bony hands reach up   
  
towards the boats that pass overhead. Perhaps they reach for their   
  
comrades.  
  
The island in the center of the lake was once used for dark rituals. No one is allowed to go there, by order of the town council.  
  
Now, at least I had a new objective, to check out the island in the center of the lake. When I turned around to head outside, an old friend was waiting for me.  
  
It was the damn monster I had decided to call pyramid head. He had his giant knife with him, but he didn't swing at me.  
  
I shoved him aside and ran back down the stairs, to find that he wasn't following me. I turned back around and stared at him. I felt his eyes staring at me through his mask, if he had them, that is. We stood there for a few minutes, till the sirens started going off again.   
  
I had another sudden flash, and I awoke to Tom giving me mouth to mouth resusitation. I pushed him off, got up, and found myself back in the "normal library", with a bunch of people staring at me. 


End file.
